“Should I believe you?”
“Why would I lie about it?”
“Why would a man lie about any fact?”
“Touché.” He patted his thigh. “You’re too far away from me. Come over and sit down.”
“I shouldn’t.”
“Why not?”
“When I’m close to you, it stirs wicked notions I hadn’t ought to contemplate.”
“I like the sound of that.”
The quiet room was too much for her. It fostered an intimacy she didn’t like. It felt as if they were the only two people on Earth and any misconduct would be allowed.
She walked to the refreshment tray and poured them both a whiskey. As she handed him one, he grabbed her wrist, but she skittered away and hovered over by the window, braced like a panicked virgin who would bolt at the least sign of trouble.
“Will you ever release me from this dungeon?” she asked him.
“Maybe not.”
“What if it rains all night?”
“I could have a carriage harnessed, and we could travel to Roland in it, but I’d hate to impose on my servants when the weather is so inclement.”
“Yes, that would be cruel.”
“Give it an hour or so. If it doesn’t improve, we can discuss the situation again.”
“You hustled me into the house so fast that I’ve barely had a chance to snoop. May I have a tour? It would pass the time.”
“You can have a tour, but you’re incredibly nervous. Why?”
“This is too odd,” she said. “I can’t figure out how to act.”
He smiled a delicious smile. “If you sit on my lap, I’ll show you how.”
“I’ll just bet you would.”
“What do you suppose will happen between us?”
“Nothing good. I’m sure of it.”
He sipped his drink, his warm regard washing over her and easing some of the tension. After a bit, he said, “That reporter really upset you.”
“Yes, very much.”
“Why is that? You’ve spent so many years telling your story. I’d think it would seem very blasé to you by now.”
“A lot of it is invented.”
For a moment, he looked shocked. “Don’t say so.”
“My Uncle Harry pried some memories out of me when I was small and had first been brought back to England, but he significantly embellished them.”
“I’m stunned to hear it.”
“I have some real memories though, but they’re hidden deep down inside. If I focused on them, I might recollect something terrible. It scares me.”
“What might you recollect?” he asked.
“If I wanted to recall, I would,” she said more testily than she’d intended.
“After suffering a trauma, it’s common to bury the details. I saw it regularly in the navy, but a doctor once apprised me that it’s therapeutic to reminisce about an incident. Apparently, distress will wane with the remembering.”
She bristled. “He was probably a charlatan.”
“Your parents weren’t missionaries, were they? Isn’t that what you told me?”
“I swear, that question has been put to me a dozen times today.”
“By who besides me?”
“The newspaper reporter and Lord Roland. They assume I’m too flamboyant to have sprung from ordinary folks.”
“They’re correct. You are.” Appearing sly and crafty, he asked, “How did you answer them?”
“I didn’t. There’s no point in piquing their curiosity. It’s not as if I can change my history.”
“Your Uncle Harry wasn’t even your uncle. Aren’t you concerned about what else he might have concealed?”
From perusing the box of Harry’s old letters, she knew what he’d concealed, and the whole sad saga surged to the tip of her tongue.
She yearned to open her mouth and let it spill out, but she couldn’t force herself to confide in him. What if he ridiculed her? What if he laughed with derision? What if her tale ignited a chain of events that destroyed the entire world? Wasn’t it better to remain silent?
Oh, she was so conflicted!
“Your devious mind is whirring,” he said.
“My mind is not devious, and it’s not whirring.”
“Yes, it is. You’re debating whether to unburden yourself over some issue. What is it?”
She scowled. “Why would you think that?”
“I can read your thoughts clear as day. You’re not a mystery to me.”
“That news alarms me. I’ll have to try harder to be enigmatic.”
“It won’t work. I’ve figured you out.”
“What have you—in your infinite wisdom—deduced about me?”
“You’re not as tough as you pretend to be,” he said.
“Maybe not.”
“And you’re lonely. You’re constantly surrounded by people, but you’re always alone. You’re tormented by your past, and you’d like to shuck off the weight your uncle demanded you carry, but if you did, you can’t imagine who you’d be afterward.”
Her jaw dropped in astonishment. “You couldn’t possibly have guessed all that. Are you about to tell me you’re a clairvoyant?”
He chuckled. “No. I was merely blowing smoke, but from your reaction, I take it I hit the mark.”
“Don’t gloat. It’s annoying.”
“Will you come and sit down? Or will I have to walk over and drag you back?”
“I should stay where I am, and you should stay where you are.”
“If you get much more prim on me, I’ll accuse you of having moral tendencies.”
“I have some,” she said. “Not a lot, but some.”
“We have so few chances to be together like this. Once the rain stops, we’ll have to return to Roland and act like strangers. Why waste these precious minutes?”
“We’re not wasting anything. We’re chatting.”
“I’m bored with chatting, and I want to dally.”
“Of course you do.” Her tone was scolding. “You’re a man. It’s all you dolts think about.”
“Not me. Before you strolled by, I was never overly consumed by passionate rumination. But since I met you, I’ve become a raging ball of lust. I feel like a randy adolescent who just discovered that girls are pretty.”
“You’re blaming me for your obsession?”
“Absolutely, and because you’re responsible for my discomfort, I insist you slake it.”
Her defenses were wilting. The room was cozy and dark, the fire casting intriguing shadows and creating an ambiance that encouraged mischief. If she relented and offered what he sought, who would ever know? What if she sauntered over, took his hand, and told him to escort her up to his bedchamber?
She had a fairly precise idea of
